You Come. I Go. We Stay. This Dies. Were Done.

Sunday night is calling you
Sunday night is my birthday
and Sunday night
we will
drink champagne
we will
your all a mess and a half
you will be missed or laughed
cause Sunday night is coming
Sunday night is coming
Sunday night is here
tonight
your blood runs thick
threw my finger tips
and your hair swings back
soo lightly
or gently
and your smiles wide
while your eyes, they glide
to mine,
to mine,
all mine
you make up for all my fears
you make up for all my tears
you make up
your make up
your believe
your real
your fake
you make up, your all here
you make up, your dead dear
your dead
and your dead
and your dead
before we knew it.
your all a mess and a half
you will be missed or laughed
cause Sunday night is coming
your Sunday night is coming
Sunday night is here
tonight
you cannot fight me anymore
you cannot fight me in your dreams
while you sleep
on your death bed
on your death bed
on your death bed
your dead to me
and your dead
and your dead
on your death bed
Sunday night.